


you look like you’re sick too

by boxesofflowers, Eeyoreneedsahug



Category: SKAM (TV)
Genre: Angst, Appendicitis, Eskild is the Mom Friend, Fluff, M/M, Sick Even, Sick Isak, Sickfic, sick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-28
Updated: 2016-12-28
Packaged: 2018-09-12 19:34:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9087100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boxesofflowers/pseuds/boxesofflowers, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eeyoreneedsahug/pseuds/Eeyoreneedsahug
Summary: Isak and Even are both sick, Eskild has to mother them.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [safficwriter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/safficwriter/gifts).



> The prompt was "what about sick fic where isak takes care of even tho OR they're BOTH sick and mama eskild has to swoop in?". So, we (Poe, mostly, because she is trash) took it to the next level. This one's for you Heather the smol. The footnotes will be links soon but they aren't yet (sorry). If anyone has good html tutorials or suggestions please comment. Call us on our Norwegian if it's bad or if you know a better way to say what we're trying to say.

“I told you, ″ _dumme faen._ ”1 Isak mumbles, still half asleep, and Even laughs hoarsely.

“I remember. _Jævel._ ”2 He sniffles, and rolls over to press a lazy kiss to Isak’s cheek. “It’s not so bad.”

Isak’s lying on his back, wearing one sock and a pair of boxers, arm flung over his aching eyes. He’s been pretty sick for almost a week, over holiday break no less, and he swears every day it somehow manages to stay unchanged despite the amount of Nyquil he’s forcing down. Even had, of course, insisted on “taking care” of Isak, which really meant watching television and making tea and peppering his face with kisses.

Isak had warned him, many times in fact, that if Even kept hanging around and sticking his tongue down his throat he was going to end up just like him. But no, his stubborn boyfriend had to get himself sick. It was sort of nice, admittedly, to just lie around with Even all day with a solid excuse, but Isak didn’t get much chance to enjoy the company. Most of the time he was either sleeping or wanting to fall back asleep, and it didn’t help that Even was - obnoxiously - not nearly as sick as Isak. 

It was what he expected, what with Even’s immpecable immune system, but still, it wasn’t great knowing he was the one who’d given Even a cold (possibly the flu. Or the plague. Isak wasn’t sure.), even if it wasn’t a bad one.

“Honestly Isak, I expected better.” Says Even. “Considering the way you were whining. Maybe you’re just a _fitta_ though.” Isak can tell his boyfriend’s trying to make him laugh, and he has to admit that it’s working to a certain degree.

“Me? A pussy? That’s not a good insult.” 

“What do you mean? It’s what people say. People say that.” 

“Sana would drop you hard if she heard you talking like that. Noora too.” Even opens his mouth to reply, but before he can, Eskild’s voice echoes from the doorway.

“Honestly Isak, I expected better.” Isak can’t control his laughter, despite the fact that it hurts his throat. Even joins in, and Eskild frowns.

“What the fuck?” Eskild is looking at them like they’ve gone insane. “Whatever.” He continues after they keep laughing and ignore him. “I just thought with all of the bragging you do about biology that you’d be able to at least know when _not_ to kiss.”

“I tried to warn him. He won’t listen.”

“Right. Well I was wondering if you wanted anything. I have this for you.” He says holding up a can of soda. “I can make tea.” Though Eskild’s words are aimed primarily at Isak, Even pipes up.

“Do you have any weed?” Isak can't hold back a laugh, and it quickly turns into a cough. Eskild glares at Even.

“Don't you have your own apartment? You don't fall under my authority.” Eskild says, glaring at Even. “Send your stray home!” He says, shifting his gaze to the other boy. Isak pouts, trying to look pitiful. “Fine! I’m not being nice though, considering how stupid you had to be to get into this situation in the first place.” He pauses. “On second thought, I’ll have to consider it. I’ll have to think about it. Whether he can stay.”

“C’mon. I’m so sick. I'm so homeless.” Even moans, and Eskild rolls his eyes, handing the can of soda to Isak.

“That's for you. Don't share, for fuck’s sake. You've exchanged spit enough already.”

“Thanks _Mamma_.” Isak says grudgingly.

“No kissing! _Herregud,_ I know you’re absolutely mad for each other and all that but give it a rest for a few days. Can you control yourselves?” Even nods enthusiastically, and Isak breaks out laughing again, though he doesn’t know exactly why it’s so funny. Eskild frowns and places his palm on Isak’s forehead. He's shifting from joking to serious.“I swear this stupid thing is almost as stubborn as you. You feel bad?” Isak nods, and Eskild shifts his gaze to Even. “You'll make sure he's ok?”

“I'm also sick. For the record.” Even says, punctuating his statement with an exaggerated sniffle. 

“I'm sure you'll still have enough energy to give Isak some dick. If necessary.” Eskild smiles. 

“Eskild!” Isak looks so affronted, yet still somehow so small and tired and...Isak, that Even can’t help but laugh. “Are you laughing at me?” Isak tries to keep a straight face but can’t help himself. Eskild shakes his head.

“But I'm serious, Even. Your boyfriend barely knows how to take care of himself. Isak, drink that.” He says before turning back to the door. “Actually get some sleep. Please.” He pauses for a second. “Your cackling is getting annoying.” He finishes with a smile.

Even wraps a protective arm around Isak.

“Don’t insult my boyfriend. He’s dying. Respect. Please.” 

“You’re annoying too, don't think I was leaving you out.” Eskild says, and Even rolls his eyes. 

“Bye Eskild.” Isak prompts, and reluctantly, Eskild leaves. The younger boy yawns, rolling over so he’s curled close to Even. His skin is warm, but Isak doesn’t think anything of it, just tries to absorb as much of the heat as he can. Even rubs his eyes, like he does when he gets a headache, and Isak kisses his cheek. “You ok?”

“Yeah. Not so bad.” Isak feels a quiet burst of relief - he’d hate for Even to feel as awful as he has these past few days. “I promise. I feel fine.”

\---

When Isak wakes up, he’s far too warm. He’s rolled over, now lying on his back, creases in his arms from where the sheets pressed against his skin. He only gets these when he’s slept really well, so, never. He’s sticky and uncomfortable in his several day old pajamas, fairly sure he smells, and his muscles still ache, but he’s no longer on death’s door so it’s a massive improvement. 

The fact that Eskild’s ordering did him so much good surprises him, but he’s been sick for a long while and rest was apparently exactly what he needed. Well, that, and the threat of another several days with only Eskild for company if Even was forced to leave.

He pushes out of bed, and looks down at the lump under the covers on the other side of the bed. Even’s fast asleep, curled up in a tight ball. It makes Isak smile, and he has to stop himself from kissing his cheek in the interest of not waking him. 

Isak showers quickly, throws on clothes that are (likely) clean, and grabs some cereal, surprising Eskild who’s standing in the kitchen, making ramen.

“You look...better. _Healthy. Much better._.” He says, over articulating in English. Isak sits on the counter and starts eating. It feels good to eat actual food for the first time in at least a couple days, he missed it when he wasn’t even able to stomach saltines.

“Where is the other one?” Eskild raises an eyebrow at Isak who is ravenously gobbling the overly sweet corn flakes he’d normally hate. Today, he’s just glad he can actually taste them.

“Sleeping. He looked so nice that I didn’t want to wake him up.” Eskild nods, stirring the noodles.

“Yeah. He’ll probably be down for the count with this bug. Judging by how long you were sick for.” Isak sighs. “And, I’ll enjoy the extra few minutes of silence before I’m drowning in your lovey crap again.” Eskild starts muttering. “I can’t believe you got lucky on your first relationship. I’m a well established gay and I never even get polite Grindr hooks. Fucking hell.”

“I’m going to go check on him.” Isak says loudly, shoveling one last spoonful into his mouth before practically tossing the bowl into the sink. 

When he woke up he’d felt so good, but now that he’s over the fact that he’s no longer dying, he realizes how weak he feels. He pads quietly into the dark, still room and sits on the edge of the bed. He reaches over to brush Even’s hair back. Usually, it’s in that familiar style, but since he’s been sick it’s devolved into a disheveled mess. His fingers graze Even’s forehead, and he pulls back. He’s absolutely burning up.

“Fuck.” He touches his cheek, feeling the same heat there. The boy doesn’t respond, which only heightens Isak’s panic. “Ok. This is fine. This is fine.” He’s muttering under his breath, talking to himself.

In the bathroom he opens every drawer, looking for a clean washcloth.

“Are you ok? Need any help?” He hears Eskild call from the kitchen.

“No! Yes! I don’t know.” His heart feels like it’s beating harder than normal, he can feel it in his fingertips. Even said he was fine. Isak had believed him. He should’ve known better.

“Ok.” Eskild says, poking his head into the bathroom. “What do you need?” 

“Where the fuck are the washcloths? Did Noora decide to iron them all again or something? I need them.” Isak is on the verge of crying in frustration. He’s shaking - he shouldn’t get so worked up, considering the fact he hasn’t eaten in a week, it’s pretty likely he’s going to pass out.

“Chill. They’re on top of the dryer. What’s the problem?” Isak pushes past him, out into the hall.

“Even’s sick.” He finds them, stacked in a neat pile, and grabs a few. He’s not really sure how many he’ll actually need, but he figures the more the better.

“Yes?” Eskild calls.

“No, sick sick. Where’s the thermometer?” They’ve somehow both found their way back into the kitchen, and Eskild frowns.

“We don’t have one. How bad is it?”

“I don’t know.” Eskild takes the cloths.

“You go in there, wake him up, ask him how he feels. I’ll take care of this and I’ll be there in a minute.” Isak doesn’t need to be told twice.

When he walks back into the bedroom, Even’s in the same position as before, breath shallow and cheeks flushed. Carefully, Isak touches his shoulder, giving it a small shake. He can feel the fever burning through the comforter. No response. He lays a hand on the side of his face, gingerly trying to move him enough to wake him. The heat makes him uncomfortable, but he tries to push away the worry. But still, nothing. Isak kisses his forehead.

“Even. Hey.” He whispers, and blonde eyelashes flutter. His glassy blue eyes take a moment to focus, but they eventually land. He takes a shaky breath.

“Isak.” His eyes begin to slip closed again and Isak shakes him.

“C’mon. You have to tell me what’s wrong.”

“Leave me alone.” He mumbles, and Isak notices his arms are wrapped protectively around his abdomen. He’s cloaked in sweat.

“Your stomach hurts?” Even nods, and Isak frowns. He remembers being nauseous, but his stomach never...hurt. Not like this. Even is practically hyperventilating, presumably from the pain. Something else is wrong, something big. “What else?”

“Stop talking to me, please.” Eskild walks in, holding the damp cloth, and hands it to Isak, who fumbles for a moment before haphazardly placing it on Even’s forehead. He moans softly, but doesn’t move to push it away.

“What’s up? Do you know?” Eskild says, and Even squeezes his eyes shut.

“No. Stomachache, but that’s all I can get out of him. And a fever, obviously.” Immediately, Eskild shifts into his “adult mode.”

“Even, sit up.” The younger boy shakes his head, eyes still pressed shut. “Ok. Fine.” Eskild peels the blanket off, and forcibly lifts Even into a semi-seated position, who lets out a small whimper, wrapping his arms tighter around his stomach. “You can go back to sleep as soon as you tell me what’s going on.”

“My stomach. My head.” Even breathes, and Eskild nods.

“Ok.” He looks at Isak, “Do you know if he has his appendix?” 

“No, I don’t, but I don’t think-” Their attention is turned back to the bed when Even lets out a loud retch. Eskild grabs the wastebasket, placing it between Even’s legs. Again, he turns back to Isak. He’s so calm, Isak wonders how in the world he can be so calm.

He flips on the lamp, and Even actually tears up, squeezing his eyes shut again, almost crying out. His headache must be awful.

“You stay here, I’ll be right back. Alright?” Isak nods, and Eskild walks quickly to the door.

“Wait, where are you-”

“Just relax.” Eskild leaves, and Isak’s left kneeling next to a very, very unfamiliar Even. He looks so helpless, so drained, so weak, that Isak can hardly bear to watch. His boyfriend is always so composed, so well put together, even when he’s not he still somehow manages to be above it all. Now, not so much.

“It’s ok.” He offers, and places a careful hand on Even’s back, moving in slow circles. His thin shirt is damp with sweat, and without warning, he heaves again, letting a small sob escape. There are tears on his cheeks, and Isak tries fervently to wipe them away. Even leans into his touch, and Isak moves closer, so he’s sitting in front of him on the bed.

“Isak,” Even chokes, before heaving again, this time something wet hits the bottom of the trashcan. He’s taking short, gasping breaths, and desperately, Isak tries to calm him down.

“Hey, hey, hey, it’s alright, you’re ok.” The words aren’t just for the shaking boy in front of him, but for himself as well. Even struggles to catch his breath, tears still streaming down his face. Isak grabs the washcloth, still damp, and wipes the leftover mess from his chin.

Eskild walks back in, phone pressed to his ear.

“Uh, no.” A pause. “A day or so.” Another pause. “Ah, I don’t know.” He reaches out and touches the back of Even’s neck. Even flinches away slightly. “39? 40? I don’t have a thermometer.” He steps back, pacing. “Trust me, I know.” Isak hears a siren, and there’s a red light from the street below. “Ok, they’re here... Yes. Thank you.” He hangs up and touches Even’s shoulder. “You’re gonna get some help, these people know what to do.”

Even shakes his head weakly, mumbling that he wants to stay. Before he can finish, he retches again, more acrid vomit landing in the trashcan. 

“You called an ambulance?” Isak is shocked.

“Yes. I did. Call his parents, let them know he’s going to the emergency room. You ride with him, they can meet you there. I’ll pick you up.” There’s a knock at the door, and Eskild leaves to let the paramedics in.

Isak knows it’s going to be a long night.

\---

Three days later, Isak sits in the hospital cafeteria with a considerably pale, yet much healthier looking Even, listening as his boyfriend makes witty comments concerning the color palette of the dining room.

“Why brown? Doesn’t seem very appetizing.” Even’s not eating, just taking an occasional sip from a comically large water bottle his mother bought from the gift shop. “You know you’re not the reason I got sick, by the way. You may already know this since you’re a biology genius but you can’t catch appendicitis.”

“I feel bad though.” He really does. Even laughs.

“Why? It’s not your fault.” Isak pushes his french fries around his plate.

“I thought you were exaggerating. Then I just believed you when you said you were fine.” Even smiles.

“I’ll admit I do have a trend of….bullshitting. I don’t blame you. Besides, I didn’t want you to worry about it anyway. You get sick pretty often, this time seemed pretty bad and I didn’t want you to get any worse.”

“So you lied about having appendicitis?” Even sighs.

“Yeah.” He pauses. “Couldn’t pull it off, obviously.”

By the time the paramedics got to the apartment, Even’s appendix had burst. He had to have an emergency surgery, only for the surgeon to find out it was too late. Technically, Even still had his appendix - it was going to be another few days of antibiotics before all the infection was cleared up and he’d have to be cut open again. However, despite everything, he was back to being (mostly) his old self. He always looked at the world like he knew something it didn’t, and he looked at Isak like they were sharing those secrets.

“Was it worth it?”

“No. Not a fucking bit.” He flashes Isak a familiar smile, but his expression quickly becomes serious. “I’m sorry if I scared you. I know you’ve never seen me like that.”

He knows Even is apologizing for a lot. More than just the apartment. Over the past three days Even’s been in about as terrible of shape as anyone could be, and Isak’s been there to watch. He sat there while Even threw up onto the sheets, while he cried, while he called for his mom in the middle of the night. It was a lot, almost more than Isak could handle. But he’d be damn sure Even didn’t have to be alone through anything as awful as that.

“It’s ok. It’s not like it’s your fault or anything.”

“I know, it’s just-”

“You’re the one who’s half dead but you’re apologizing to me?” Even smiles, looking down as he takes Isak’s hand carefully in his.

“Thanks for being here for me. And there for me. It’s uh,” He clears his throat. “A big deal.” He’s still looking down at their joined hands with his private, not-for-show smile playing across his features.

“That’s how this works. I love you.” Even looks up at Isak.

“Love you too.” 

“ _Jævel._ ”3

**Author's Note:**

> 1 dumb fuck
> 
> 2 bastard/fucker/etc. 
> 
> 3 bastard/fucker/etc. 
> 
> Send us prompts [HERE](http://poeandbeaux.tumblr.com/ask)!


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